Not much to report this week. The doctor estimates that Green Bean weighs about 5 lbs now. She is in a head-down position, which is good. It's crazy seeing her on the ultrasound now--her head takes up the whole screen. I've definitely started to feel like there's a big ol' baby moving around in there and not just a twitchy little fetus. She's not such a little bean anymore.
A few days ago Tim and I tried to do this 2-hour online instructional carseat safety course that had been recommended at our birthing class. After half-an-hour of being instructed on not driving with the baby in our laps, not buying used carseats that have been damaged in car crashes, and how to buckle a seatbelt, we figured we might be able to navigate the carseat thing on our own, seeing as our collective IQ is not in the single digits. We've done our research and will be getting the carseat on Thursday. Hopefully installing it is not the brain surgery level ordeal people are making it out to be. And even if it is, I think Tim can handle it. ;)
Speaking of Tim, it's really cute watching him earnestly read the baby book while watching baseball. If that's not the epitome of new fatherhood, I don't know what is.
Our main goal, besides getting the carseat, for the next couple weeks is to finish setting up the baby's room--assemble the swing and bassinette, get rid of the bed in there, and hang up the pictures. I can't wait to see it looking all baby-ready. I spent a blissful day in there last week opening packages, removing tags, and organizing things while listening to the "Rock Lullabies for Babies" CD my friend Tiffany sent us ("Bohemian Rhapsody" in lullaby form? Love it!). I love being surrounded by all her adorable things from people who love her. It's surreal looking at her little outfits and realizing that an actual baby--our baby--is going to be wearing them very soon.
I had a dream last night that we named the baby Brisé. I just googled the word and apparently a brisé is a sharp, brisk ballet kick. Green Bean has certainly been brisé-ing it up in my uterus lately. Apparently my subconscious is smart (and bilingual).
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Ha! I hear you on the instructional videos for carseats thing. That said, nothing in the universe prepared me for how freaking difficult it was to get a seatbelt through the place-holders-in-thingy-holes of Peter's infant carseat. Nothing. Nada. Zip. I still bear scars on my hand from scraping them on those rough plastic edges.
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